Alex Armstrong

I was walking down the bay of Thessaloniki this morning, enjoying the drizzly, foggy day. I took a few photos of the container ships which hung soundlessly out in the misty water, like ghost ships from an ominous tale. Walking back, I kept stopping to take more pictures. I’m not…

The man walking towards me on the other side of the pavement caught my eye and ambled in my path. We stopped and sized each other. He was in his sixties. Being a bit shorter than me, he pushed the flat cap up on his forehead to look at me. He pointed to a bundle of rolled papers…

In terms of writing these days I am mired, knee-deep, in the squelching, quaggy plot of my novel. I’m trying to make sure that the story is fun to read, makes sense, and is historically plausible — or, at least, not blatantly inconceivable. Every time I sit to work on the…

It’s traditional around the end of the year for people to reflect on the past year, and envision wanton aspirations for the coming one. Most bloggers have, by now, posted their reflections — no doubt scrupulously prepared before the holidays, so that they can post triumphantly…

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks by the beach. I am working, not vacationing. But since I work remotely, and my primary collaborator is on vacation, and the beach is so near Athens, and I have somewhere to stay, and decent WiFi is available at the seaside cafés, well: I’d be a…

I started this year thinking about beginnings. More recently I’ve been thinking about endings. And in particular, about quitting. How to quit and when. What are the signs, the premonitions? Is it possible to quit with dignity? This is all Potatowire’s fault. Potatowire, an…

I’m not fond of the summer heat, but I like the sun, because it gives me reason to wear my sunglasses. Not only do they shade my eyes from the glare, but whenever I put them on I feel very cool. If I catch myself reflected in a mirror or a window, I’ll stop for a moment and…

Arrival On the morning of February 2 of this year, I shut down my laptop and left my flat with a rucksack that contained a few clothes and toiletries, but was primarily laden with pillows and blankets. Looking like an off-season backpacker, I made my way to Euboea, an island off…

It’s traditional at this time for bloggers to take a look back over the year and give an account of their blogging misadventures. This week also marks the first anniversary of this blog. It hasn’t gone too badly, as far as ill-conceived endeavours go. How it started I’ve…

If you’re worried about making a mess of things, you probably will. But then, a mess is the process by which things get made. The perfect thing — if that is what you aspire to — is a sleight-of-hand. The trick is to hide the effort that went into making it, not in making it…